The Valeyard Trilogy
by Kathryn Shadow
Summary: I got two or three requests to continue this, so this is me, continuing it. A trilogy of sorts, detailing why the Valeyard would want to muck up his own timeline. 10/Rose, Valeyard/Rose.
1. Rise of the Valeyard

Chibi!evil!Doctor threatened to kill me with a rubber band if I didn't write for him... and chibi!evil!Rose said she'd help him. .

WARNING: Un-beta'd.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Doctor Who and I borrowed clone!chibi!Valeyard from TCASM. So I own nothing of this except maybe the order of the words. MAYBE.

**Dedication: **TCASM. It's her birthday.

POST-EDIT COMMENTING THINGIE: I got two or three requests to continue, so I'm making it into a trilogy of oneshots. Or is it called a threeshot? -confused now- Anyway... On with it!

-BAD WOLF-

Her scream tore through the air, ripping into his soul, shattering it. Please, he begged whomever might be listening, please let it have been a scream of fear. It wasn't like her, but he honestly didn't mind, if it meant...

He roughly pushed through the Krynd to stand beside the altar she was chained to, quickly pulling out the sonic screwdriver to attempt to free her, trying to ignore yet so painfully aware of the crimson lifeblood welling from the single wound in her chest.

She choked, more blood coming through her mouth to stain her lips scarlet as she squinted up at him. Another breath caught in her throat as she tried to speak.

"See you then, Doctor," she finally managed to murmur sleepily before her eyes unfocussed and she quietly stopped breathing.

His movements froze, every fibre of his being screaming defiance. She couldn't be dead. She _couldn't. _Not her, not now, not at only twenty-one, not so _uselessly! _She was supposed to have died heroically, perfectly, decades from now, when her time came, not...

Hot tears dripped unheeded down his face, burning him even as the truth scorched itself into his soul.

He had come too late.

Every time they were in danger, he came in all heroic within seconds of being too late. It was a routine of sorts, part of his schedule. Wait until Rose wakes up, give her tea, have own tea, get into trouble, get Rose in danger, come in and save her just barely in time, run back to the TARDIS hand-in-hand, have a good laugh and then another cup of tea. Repeat.

He was _never _too late, some part of him insisted. This was a delusion. A dream. If he closed his eyes, opened them again, she would be before him.

But all he could see was her broken, bleeding body lying discarded on the cold rough stone of the altar, chained there.

He had come too late, he thought, numbly. She was dead... oh, Rassilon, she was _dead _and they...

Rage flooded through him, overtaking the grief and guilt, using it as fuel for the blaze of fury which ignited in his mind now. He murmured a broken apology to her dead form before whirling around to face the Krynd, his rage blazing blackly out of his eyes.

_"You," _he hissed.

"She was a good sacrifice," said the lead Krynd calmly, the picture of serenity— barring the blood on his thin fingers. Rose's blood. "She did not scream or fight like the others. She will please the gods; you should be happy."

"Don't you _dare _tell me to be happy when..." he snarled before trailing off, unable to say that she was dead. Saying it would fully admit it, and the moment he admitted it he would break. He couldn't break, couldn't rest, until she was avenged. His fury solidified into a rhythmic drumming— a steady _boomboomboomboom, boomboomboomboom_, counting out his heartbeats.

He snatched the ceremonial blade which had murdered her from the floor, grabbing the leader's hand and viciously slashing the back of it, across a spot where the tender veins pulsed. He watched with a twisted pleasure as the creature's black blood poured out to further stain the floor, mingling with the blood of countless victims. The alien gaped at him, unbelieving, before slowly collapsing to the ground.

_Boomboomboomboom._

The thirteen other Krynd stared blankly at their dead leader, eyes unfocussed with shock. He was beside the nearest in a moment; they looked up at him with naked terror in their light-purple eyes, and their fear pleased him. Let them feel fear, and pain, and death. Let them suffer for what they did to his Rose.

_Boomboomboomboom._

He laughed, a twisted, inhuman sound of delight at his merciless slaughter, calmly ignoring the TARDIS's voice in the back of his head begging him to stop.

_Boomboomboomboom._

Faster now, faster, the drums rang in his head, getting closer and closer with every life he took.

_Boomboomboomboom._

When all of the creatures lay dead, their black blood pooling to stain the cream colour of his Converses, he let himself break.

_Boomboomboomboom._

He slipped to the ground, sobbing countless apologies to Rose's lifeless body, screaming out his grief in a language no-one knew but him, wishing that he could just die as well; there was no such thing as life without her, he thought, and if there was an afterlife, then he wanted to get there as quickly as possible.

_Boomboomboomboom._

He could, he thought excitedly, grabbed the knife and turned it on himself.

_Boomboomboomboom._

_Boomboomboomboom._

_Boomboom...boom...boom._

_Boom...boom..._

Silence.

-BAD WOLF-

He awakened, even he wasn't sure how long afterwards. He could still feel the merciful blade digging into his flesh, loosing his blood to mingle with that of Rose's murderers... he had tried so hard to stop the regeneration process, but he must have lost consciousness.

He kicked the altar in frustration, considering killing himself again, but an echo of the man he had once been stopped him.

If he just killed himself again and again, Rose would still be dead. But he was a Time Lord; it was his right to change history, his and no-one else's. If he fixed it, made it so he had never met her... He wasn't supposed to change his own timeline in such a way as he had never had a reason to change it, but since when had he ever followed the rules?

New vitality coursing through his reformed veins, he stumbled to his feet.

_Wait._

He couldn't just leave her there, even if she wouldn't ever come to this planet in the first place.

He found wood in a corner of the room— probably for other sacrifices, but he didn't care. It wasn't as if the Krynd were going to use it.

He piled it around her body, set fire to the end of one chunk of wood, and then touched it to the end of the makeshift pyre before tossing the chunk into her lap.

The Doctor watched her body be consumed by the funeral flames.

The Valeyard walked back to the TARDIS to stop himself from ever meeting her.

-BAD WOLF-

Went and studied the Valeyard a bit and just wondered why in Rassilon's name he would want to imprison himself... and this was the first thing that came to mind.

-hands clone!chibi!Valeyard back to TCASM- See? Still in one piece.

I know that the Valeyard was the thirteenth incarnation... But I can cheat a bit, can't I? And nobody said that he didn't BECOME the Valeyard beforehand. It has to take a bit of time to go backwards and safely stop oneself from meeting somebody, doesn't it?

If I said anything directly against canon... You know what? I don't care. The bleeding _writers _probably don't know what the canon is anymore. So if I said anything against canon, call it AU.

If it was crap... blame the fact that I haven't been sleeping well and it's currently 0045.


	2. Quest of the Valeyard

Here comes the next bit, which is my explanation for The Episode Which Must Not Be Named. (You know the one of which I speak. And if you don't, you will soon.)

And for the record, if you're going to flame me, kindly frak off, yeah? I have too many people telling me that I'm good at this to listen to your bovine excrement. And it's not like this stuff matters anyway.

**Disclaimer: **I own chibi!Will, but he isn't even Doctor Who-related... OH! WAIT! I own chibi!alt.!Doctor too! But not Doctor Who.

**Dedication: **TCASM.

-BAD WOLF-

The Valeyard tapped absently at the controls. The TARDIS was nervous of him, shivered in fear every time he touched her, but he barely noticed.

One detail altered, and the whole of creation would rewrite itself. One small change in his life, and Rose would leave him before it was too late. He had already decided what he would do; he just had to find out when.

After Sarah-Jane, he thought, but before the parallel world. The incident with Sarah-Jane had caused a rift between them, but the Doctor had comforted Rose after Mickey was lost and that had healed it.

They had landed in a spaceship filled with people, he recalled. They had helped them out with some engine trouble and then gone back into the Vortex, fondly reminiscing of their past adventures, the wounds from the Sarah-Jane incident fading.

But if he changed it...

Mind made up, he went to a room filled with clocks and glass mannequins and started to work.

A week or so later, the TARDIS materialised on the spaceship _SS Madame de Pompadour, _with a dozen or so clockwork robots whimsically dressed up as masked Frenchmen on board.

The robots, once they were unleashed upon the ship, began to obey their programming— slaughtering the crew and patching them into the damaged systems. The Doctors (except for Ten), trapped inside the Valeyard's mind, felt a stab of guilt at the murder of the innocent crewmembers, but Ten and the Valeyard knew that it was necessary.

He let the ship float dead in space, warp drives at maximum to blow holes in Time— holes which led straight to one Jeanne-Antoinette Poisson.

Ten had always been infatuated with her— in a purely hero-worship kind of way, yes, but given the chance...

The Valeyard was about to go back into the TARDIS and wait until the new timeline asserted itself when one of the robots pressed its bloodied blade to his throat.

"What are you doing?" he inquired sharply.

"We need the computer," said the robot.

"I told you, Reinette is the one you need!"

"We need the computer," repeated the robot, and poked at the Time Lord, puncturing the delicate skin of his neck.

A small wound, but enough, thought the Valeyard as blood slipped out of it to run down his neck, staining the already bloody suit which he hadn't bothered to change.

Unaware and uncaring of his creator's condition, the robot scanned him.

"You are incompatible," said the robot, and retreated.

"I could have told you that," the Valeyard managed to choke out before stumbling into the TARDIS, bleeding, dying, again.

A week he had been in that body. A week!

And, he thought as he slid to the floor and the world began to turn black, he hadn't even seen how it looked.

-BAD WOLF-

When he awakened, he was considerably overweight, felt odd and had the new timeline firmly implanted in his memories.

He quickly ran through them... yes, he had snogged Reinette, yes, Rose had known... He had abandoned her?

Well, he thought, if that didn't get her to leave him he didn't know what would.

Oh.

She hadn't.

He fought the urge to bash his head against the console.

"Think," he muttered to himself. So she wouldn't leave him, not even after betrayal that deep... But if he kept her from going with him in the first place...

She had told him that she had Googled him, talked with a man named Clive who had studied him... The man had been almost fanboy-ish, delighted to know that the Doctor had returned, but if the Valeyard intercepted, installed himself in Clive's place...

The TARDIS didn't like it, but she had no choice but to obey.

She landed in the park which Clive had apparently frequented. The Valeyard snuck up behind him and hit him viciously on the head with a rock before dragging the body back into the spaceship. He dumped the real Clive on a deserted moon inhabited only by skeletons of dead humans, then went back to Earth and convinced the TARDIS to convince Clive's family that nothing untoward had happened, that the Valeyard was Clive, and that Clive had never been the skinny geek that the Valeyard had gotten out of the way.

And then he waited. According to the emails, Rose was going to show up later that day; all he had to do was convince her not to go with him, and everything would be right, and she would live the rest of her life in peace.

A call from Clive's son interrupted his thoughts. "Dad! It's one of your nutters!"

He went to the front door, and there she was in all her glory. He resisted the insane urge to embrace her like he hadn't seen her in years, like he did after the incident in the 1950s, like...

_No._

He wasn't the Doctor, and Rose was forbidden to him. Rose had been forbidden to him when he was the Doctor, but that wasn't the point. He was the Valeyard, Rose's guardian angel, and she couldn't know who he was.

"Hello! You must be, uh, Rose," he said, pretending that he couldn't quite remember her name. "I'm Clive. Obviously."

She grinned. "I'd better tell you, my boyfriend's waiting in the car, just in case you're going to kill me."

He laughed. "Ah, no, good point, no murders," he said, waving to Mickey.

The Idiot scowled at him.

"Who is it?" inquired Clive's wife from upstairs.

"Ah, it's something to do with the Doctor," he answered. "She's been reading the website." He turned back to Rose. "Please come through, out in the shed," he instructed, directing her.

_"She?" _asked Clive's wife dubiously. "She read the website about the Doctor? She's a _she?_"

In the shed, he tried his best not to look at her, because if he looked at her he knew he would crack and spill all of his secrets to her. And maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea, but not here. Not now. And, knowing her, it would only make her more curious. No, he had to maintain his pretence, convince her not to go with him surreptitiously.

"A lot of this stuff's quite sensitive, I couldn't just send it to you. People might intercept... if you know what I mean." He picked up a file. "If you dig deep enough, keep a lively mind, this Doctor keeps cropping up all over the place. Political diaries, conspiracy theories, even ghost stories..."

He wove the story, making it sound more dark and frightening than enticing.

"He has one constant companion," he told her.

"Who's that?"

He was unable to keep a flicker of pain from crossing his face when he replied.

"Death."

He proved his own point when he was shot by a shop-window dummy a few hours later.

-BAD WOLF-

Heeheehee. Yes, I know I'm insane.

Review or I sulk in a corner and don't update for weeks and weeks.


	3. Triumph of the Valeyard

I know, I know I said (to at least one of you) that I'd update on Thursday, but by a staggering coincidence I went through the real-life version of _Girl in the Fireplace_ (Without the time travel, and with me being Rose) on that day... and then it just went downhill from there. And then I got flamed, which normally doesn't affect me very badly, but on top of everything else... So I hope you'll forgive me if I didn't exactly feel like writing. And if it isn't very good... I'll probably rewrite it when I get over the whole situation. But right now, I'm giving you an update 'cause I said I'd give you one, no matter how horrific it may be.

Anyway, here we are with the third of the trilogy.

**Dedication: **Oh, what the hell. TCASM. Poor girl lost her profile page, and I LOST MY FACEBOOK BUMPER STICKERS! -sob- I had about sixty of them... :'(

-BAD WOLF-

He had tried everything. He had murdered and lied and stolen, he had destroyed entire planets.

He had even altered the TARDIS so that she could go back into Gallifrey's past and tried to get himself executed.

This had to be his last attempt, and he knew it. He had to do it correctly. If he didn't, then he would try again, and he had already damaged the universe beyond recognition.

He started to stalk himself, as the frequent regenerations (not to mention the daily alterations to his timeline) had mucked about with his memories until he forgot what had happened at what point in his life— he had thought for a few hours that his ninth self had worked for UNIT, for Rassilon's sake— so he was stuck here, waiting for that one moment when...

Ah, he thought, as the bruised and battered TARDIS slipped through a crack in the Vortex right behind the younger, healthier TARDIS. Then. Right, he remembered now. Right after he had taken Rose to Barcelona as an attempt at an apology after he had so royally screwed things up with the Reinette incident.

He managed to convince the ship to alter her fall so she landed in Torchwood instead of next to his younger self, and then gave her enough power from his own lifespan (It wasn't as if he was going to use it for much longer, anyway) to let her start to weaken the space between the two universes.

As soon as there was a gap big enough for him to jump through again, he did so. They fell for three years, Cybermen on their tail, but finally they were back in their original universe.

He had to wait for a few hours until the Void sickness wore off, but as soon as he felt he could stand without vomiting all over the TARDIS's circuits (an action which she had patiently explained, in less polite terms than the ones quoted here, would not make her the happiest of space-timeships), he was off on the second part of his mission.

The Master wasn't the only one with hypnotic powers; the Doctor just hadn't used them much. The Valeyard had no such qualms, and utilised the telepathic nudges to allow him to infiltrate Torchwood before quietly, unnoticeably, with hardly a word spoken, convincing Yvonne to try to open the "spacial disturbance". She only cared about the nonexistent British Empire, and as soon as he mentioned that it could produce absolutely phenomenal amounts of power, she jumped at the chance to harness it.

Two months after Torchwood One had started to systematically open and close the breach, slowly working it open until the Cybermen could come through properly, the Doctor and Rose arrived.

The Valeyard slipped out of sight, going to Torchwood Two to wait in safety. He had to pretend to be dead twice to avoid the notice of the Cybermen and Daleks, but managed to escape unscathed.

And then the robot-creatures were suddenly sucked away, flung through the walls and windows as if they were being attacked by a massive vacuum cleaner. The Valeyard managed to grab a door strong enough to keep him from being pulled in as well and glanced around to find a computer within his line of vision.

Finding one, he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and aimed it at the terminal, patching it into Torchwood One's security cameras until he found the Doctor.

Wait... Rose was with him? Why hadn't he sent her back? Or had he? Or... what was going on now?

Rose reached for the lever— a lever which the Valeyard had installed, connected to a system which the Valeyard had designed— and, finding it out of her reach, let go of the clamp she had been holding to catch the lever and push it upright.

But she couldn't get a good grip before the Void started to pull her in again.

The Valeyard forgot to breathe as she was left dangling, and then sucked in a frantic breath as her fingers slipped. His past self's scream of anguish resonated through him and he would have echoed it had he not been so guilty. Had he done so much to ensure her existence only to be her killer?

Quickly focussing, he flung his mind out through the breach, catching on to Rose's father's mind and screaming an order which the pitiful human was helpless to disobey.

As the world faded into darkness from the effort of the command, the Valeyard saw Pete catch her, then vanish.

He wasn't sure how long it was before he awakened, bruised and bleeding from a rough collision with the wall after he had lost his grip on consciousness and, therefore, the door. All he knew was that his plan had succeeded, and his Rose was safe.

But he had to be sure.

He pulled himself to his feet and limped back to the TARDIS, sending the ship back to a place where he had vowed never to go again, stumbling out of the doors, eyes flickering around the stone.

Krynd wandered about, seemingly innocent, never having been killed. The altar was stained with the blood of countless victims, but the blood was old and had faded from black to purple; there wasn't a trace of telltale crimson anywhere. The wood which he himself had used for Rose's pyre sat in the corner, neatly stacked, completely unmoved and untouched by flame. The skulls of past sacrifices lined the walls, but none were human.

He had won.

He smiled at the Krynd, who gave him an odd look, before he turned around and limped back into the TARDIS.

_Now what?_ inquired Ten, hurting from Rose's absence but almost happy because he never had to see her die.

The Valeyard tapped the console, which whirred at him in a forgiving manner.

"Torchwood Two hasn't got a leader any more," he said with an almost-smile— the first such expression which had crossed his face in a time too long for him to want to know.

Years later, he was killed by his own inability to repair explosive objects, and only three people besides himself knew that he was the one responsible for the greatest battle to hit Earth in millennia.

Of those two, only Jack and Gwen Harkness knew the reason why.

-BAD WOLF-

...Where did that come from? O.O I'M SORRY! THE JACK/GWEN JUST SLIPPED OUT, IT WASN'T PLANNED, I'M SORRY! -cowers- Don't hurt me... I am but a humble slave to my ships, and...

-watches chibi!Jack scurry away, looking smug-

_YOU! _-chases him-


End file.
